The Laws of Protocol
by fernazab
Summary: Arthur MUST follow those darned laws of protocol. It doesn't matter that he's in the Middle of Nowhere... Or that nobody wants him to... CRACK!fic. No slash.


**First off, we need a moment of silence... Logic has died. It overdosed on this story's crack. _But don't worry, reason is attempting to revive him._  
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**And, in case you've forgotten, we don't own Merlin.**

**_Enjoy!_**

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><p>"Arthur, are we going in or not?" Merlin motioned to the mouth of a cave.<p>

"_Mer_lin, I've already told you. I don't know yet."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Merlin threw his arms up in exasperation. "Either we're charging in or we're not. This isn't a safe place to dally."

"We don't have permission!" Arthur pulled a scroll, quill, and ink well from the pack Merlin had been carrying.

"Like that's ever stopped you before," Merlin retorted.

"This is different," Arthur spoke as he crouched by a rock.

"How are we getting this message to your father anyway? _I_ am not running back and forth for you."

"We're sending the message the same way you sent word to Lancelot while we hid from the immortal soldiers."

"But you don't even know how I pulled that off."

"Stop ruining my plans with your logic. You just don't question these things, _Mer_lin."

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><p><em>A week later...<em>

Uther paced around his bedroom because that's all he does nowadays. Everything in the kingdom was running smoothly. What did he need to worry about? Why should he ever leave his bedroom again? No one ever said stupid things about danger in here.

Just then, a breathless servant burst through the king's bedroom door.

"A message..." the boy gasped, "for you, Sire."

Uther grumbled and snatched the parchment. Who dared send him a message? They would pay!

Then the king scanned over the letter. It was from Arthur. Alright. That was acceptable. Uther liked getting messages from his son.

The letter read as follows:

_To his Majesty, King Uther Pendragon of Camelot:_

_Sire, we have located the hideout of Super Dangerous Sorcerer (otherwise known as "SDS"). He his hiding in a cave in the Middle of Nowhere. I hereby, formally, request permission to root out the evil known as "SDS."_

_Respectfully yours,_

_Arthur Pendragon, Crown Prince of Camelot_

Uther eagerly grabbed sheet of parchment and wrote the following:

_Dear Arthur,_

_Of course you may!_

_-Your Daddy (Uther)_

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><p><em>Two weeks later...<em>

Uther jumped. He didn't squeal of course! He only jumped. A little.

That same, stupid servant from two weeks ago was bothering him, the all-important king, with another message! It was fine _last time._ That letter was from Arthur. But there couldn't be second letter from his son. Therefore, whoever sent this message would die!

Uther collected himself (not because he squealed, mind you). His face set into a kingly glower. He grabbed the parchment. As he unrolled it, he prepared to shout insults about the injustice the writer had committed.

"Oh goody!" Uther suddenly squealed. "Another message from Arthur!"

Uther's delight was somewhat dimmed by the letter's content. The sorcerer was crying a corner. Good. Arthur was asking formal permission to hack the evil creature's head off. Not so good. Uther sighed in exasperation. Why was Arthur asking permission for that? The boy should be back here by now telling all the glorious details of the battle! But no, instead Arthur was asking permission to finish the battle. What was he thinking?

Then it dawned on Uther. He really did have the best son in whole wide world! Arthur was making it possible for Uther to take credit for the victory. Oh how he loved his son!

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><p><em>A week later...<em>

Merlin rubbed his eyes. No sleep for the past three weeks. Merlin would kill Arthur! That is, after he got a nice, long nap.

The sorcerer, thanks to Merlin, was _still_ crying in the corner. That had to be a record. Maybe Merlin would make Arthur cry in the corner when this was over. By the way, making that sorcerer perpetually cry was hard enough without Arthur poking his fat head everywhere. Merlin had to make sure Arthur thought his own prowess was keeping the cretin at bay. Actually, if it wasn't for Arthur, Merlin wouldn't have even spent a month in the Middle of Nowhere. This should have been over a long time ago. But no, they were in the Middle of Nowhere _and _in the middle of doing nothing.

"Arthur, either take him prisoner or kill him," Merlin pleaded.

"The message should be here very soon."

"What if the message never comes? Please, Arthur. _Please!"_

"It will come," Arthur insisted calmly.

"Arthur, please. I'm tired."

"You can take a nap. I don't know why you haven't already."

"That's not an option," Merlin whined.

"_Mer_lin, go take a nap."

"No." Merlin folded his arms like an ill-tempered child.

"This is ridiculous, _Mer_lin. Go—"

Just then a pigeon flopped to the ground in front of them. It desperately leaped a few inches toward Arthur before flopping again. The poor creature was heavy-laden with several pages of parchment.

Before Arthur could, Merlin snatched the letter.

"Give that to me!" Arthur demanded.

Merlin jumped just barely out of the reach of Arthur's arm. Ignoring the prince's echoing demands and angry hopping, Merlin proceeded to read the message.

"Wow," Merlin commented, "I've never seen a more flowery way of saying 'yes, go kill someone.'"

"_Mer_lin! Hand it over!"

"I wonder if he doused it in perfume." Merlin sniffed the parchments playfully.

Merlin's eyes watered as found himself gagging over an unspeakable stench.

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><p><strong>Please review! You know you want to.<strong>

**_We swear that we are still working on our multi-chapters._ Speaking of which, please vote on our poll. We need to know what to work on after we've finished one of our multi-chapters :)**

**BTW, "Stop ruining my plans with your logic." is paraphrased from "Castle." The actual quote is, "Stop ruining my story with your logic." And we're sure somebody's work around here inspired the bit about Uther NOT squealing. However, we are bad people who are too lazy to figure out the identity of our inspirer. (Erm, yes, we did just invent a word. Just watch, it will be in the dictionary one day.) If it is you that we got that idea from, feel free to demand credit. We will happily cave to your demands.  
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